Anamnesis: Crystal Memories
by Derdra The Brave
Summary: The past is in the past unless you can't remember it. The Goblin King has always been just that, the Goblin King, right? Why would he be anyone else? There's much more to this story than a girl, a peach that made her forget everything, and the king who like his land is not what he seems.
1. Prologe: Contrition

**_First of all I'm so sorry that the original came out as nothing but code, there was a glitch on my end during transfer. Here's the actually prologue hope you enjoy :)_**

* * *

 ** _3 days after the Labyrinth Incident ..._**

The moon was huge that evening like a pearl and the sky devoid of clouds yet littered with stars. No one could see the owl as it flew over the labyrinth, white against black of night and black against the pale moon; below the labyrinth twisted and spiraled in detailed patterns, but not before it turned into the hedge maze and forest, the bird's destination. Swooping down he landed amidst the trees silently on snowy wings. Ahead of him was a clearing.

The creature was kneeling on the dewy grass of the clearing. The moon illuminated everything and made its pale physic glow all the more radiantly like it was made from moon beams. Pale hands produced a crystal memory and enlarged it until it hid the moon behind it. White fog-like hair wafted around its head in an oreol and large slanted eyes watched. Inside the memory were dancers in a ballroom—men and women—as well as a girl and king together. The pale women watched the scene unfold as they came together and spun with the other dancers only for the girl to eventually break away from the crowd and destroy the dream.

The owl had disappeared and instead transformed into a man that watched from the trees. He knew the memory well enough for his chest to ache. When the memory ended the bubble shrank and disappeared; the woman had leaned forward now and he could see her shoulders shiver gently in the light of the moon.

"—sorry—so sorry—"she uttered gently to herself as it it had been her fault for his pain. Curiosity had gotten the better of Jareth and he had moved closer to this strange new being that had entered his domain. There were tears running from her eyes, great sad ones she desperately tried to control it seemed, but couldn't and instead wiped them away with her hands. He'd never been moved by tears before in his life, not by runners that had begged and pleaded with him, not even with-!

"I thought it was you," she said.

Jareth started from his musings. He was right in front of her now, his own outfit of feather cloak and poets' shirt right down to his boots was dull now compared to this creature he realized. The pale woman was smiling sadly up at him as if she knew so much about everything that had happened and more. How could this be? He thought as he stared at her openly getting a better look. She appeared nude yet there was no physical-ness to her, no substance of flesh. Was she a ghost then or some ancient ethereal being?

"I'm so sorry for your pain…and more." she said. " You don't remember who you are do you? No I suppose you wouldn't," she spoke more to herself again as if lost in the past "this is all you've come to know isn't it?" the pale women gestured around her at the world in general.

"This is everything that's important to me. And it was nearly destroyed by her!" he hissed. " I should never have allowed her in. That damned—vivid—insufferable—remarkable girl…" his strength and will fled him instantaneously and Jareth fell to the ground in defeat. His pride stung and his heart hurt as much as his head did. Nothing made sense anymore and it felt like the threads of his reality were being unraveled after so much care and time had been put into it.

Jareth felt himself being held and saw the pale arms of the women were wrapped around his shoulders so he was leaning against her. Strange, he thought, this felt real. His face was against the curve of her neck and shoulder and there was a maternal comfort to the embrace, or perhaps the kind kindred spirits felt to one another. He allowed it, this feeling, to sooth him if only for a short time.

She could tell he rarely allowed others to help him; his temperament was like a cactus. "You've really forgotten everything haven't you? I'm so sorry Alban," she whispered into his hair. "Sleep now, you'll feel better when you wake up. You'll be where you need to be." And knowing he shouldn't, but really didn't want to fight it any more, Jareth closed his eyes and slept.

The Goblin King rested in her arms, his deep breathing indicated so. The pale women formed a crystal around him and enclosed the sleeping man within similarly as he had done for the Champion of the Labyrinth to dissuade her from ever reaching the castle. In her hands she held a perfect sphere with the image of the king sleeping inside it. Looking back at the full and glorious moon she lifted the crystal to her lips and blew gently till it lifted up and became air born. She watched as it rose higher and higher into the air to make its journey across the labyrinth and the sea that the castle overlooked from the other side beyond the goblin city.

She hoped she'd done the right thing in sending him back to his real home. He'd remember things eventually but only when he was home again. She'd have to find a replacement for those creatures that lived in the castle, maybe even the magic would reverse itself in due time and they'd be returned to their true nature. Only time could tell. But what was time save numbers on a clock that had thirteen on it?

There were so many things to fix and put to right.


	2. Antiquity

_There was a boy_

 _A very strange enchanted boy_

 _They say he wandered very far_

 _Very far, over land and sea_

 _A little shy and sad of eye_

 _But very wise was he_

 _And then one day, a magic day_

 _He passed my way, and while we spoke_

 _Of many things, fools and kings_

 _This he said to me_

 _"The greatest thing you'll ever learn_

 _Is just to love and be loved in return"_

* * *

 _ **On the coast of Europe, 1364**_

The guild of Merchants had come to discuss more than just politics with his father Martin. He was being persuaded by the guild to have Alban go on this excursion instead of him. "Your health is no laughing matter Martin! You need to take it easy and rest, let your body fight the residuals of the fever for you," said Fernando, a middle aged dark haired man and friend of Martin who was a spice merchant. The others nodded to his words "Your boy is strong and not lacking intelligence as you've taken measure to ensure that. Let him go in your stead to whatever business needs to be done."

Martin shifted in his chair; his once tan skin from years at sea had lost its color and become sallow through his sickness. He'd lost weight as his cloths hung looser from his shoulders now. Alban had seen his father wither and suffer from the fever he'd contracted while sailing around the tropics.

"Alban has watched and learned from everything I've done, it's true. He knows what goods people will want and what prices to haggle for. He understands accounting and practices it to keep the books in order. But I worry he still isn't ready," he'd sighed.

"No one can ever know when they're fully ready. Some never are and yet things must be done. You cannot go this time friend. I elect to send Alban son of Martin in place of his father for the voyage. Those in favor raise your hands," said Fernando.

Quietly Alban had slipped out of the meeting as the discussion became heated when it landed on politics. He'd risen soundlessly from one of the dark oak chairs with the burgundy cushions that occupied the large table and slipped out the door and down the dark hallway. Being a creature of habit he followed the usual rout down dark stone steps and into the back kitchen. The servants didn't even lift their heads to acknowledge one of their employers. Out into the brightness of day where watery pastel colors like Mediterranean blue for the sky and silky green for the foliage brushed against each other. The sun was golden and warmed the afternoon.

He climbed the marble stairs that had been placed into the incline of the hill behind the great house and ascended up the slope to the remains of an old wall that used to be an ancient mausoleum. Alban then perched his elbows on his favorite roost, looking out over the villa where he'd come from and the rest of the town all the way down to the waterfront. Silently he wished to be anywhere but there.

"Balls," cursed Alban into the breeze.

Alban's light hair played with the wind as he watched the sea come and go in the harbor. He was restless and felt something in the world shift as well as something inside him. He couldn't put his finger on it but he knew that something was happening.

Behind him someone chuckled "Restless as usual?" Alban knew who it was, the voice was unmistakable as he'd known it for years.

"Can't help myself Antony, it's my nature to brood," said Alban shifting his position on the wall to make room for his mentor. Antony was a small square shaped man that wore dark tutors robes; his hair, beard and mustache were snow white and he had laugh lines around his brown eyes that always looked like they had some hidden secret in them that would make birds dance and fishes fly.

"I wouldn't say your nature is to brood young master Alban, but to calculate your next move in the game of life. It's hard enough standing next to you when your thoughts are projecting themselves so loudly, imagine how others feel," he said lightly. Alban blanched slightly and made it so his thoughts quieted. What others wouldn't guess about the old man next to him was that he was a practitioner of magic and had been teaching Alban the same for many years. He could create such grand illusions in his youth he'd once told Alban, that the king of Spain himself had tried to persuade him to become his court wizard.

There were no magic spell books that he read from, it was all pure talent. "Books are for those who want to take the easy way!" he'd replied when Alban had asked him where he'd learned to do it. "Idle talk isn't the reason I'm here dear boy. I have a feeling things are going to be different from here on, so I wanted to catch you before anything else happened." Antony took out a fold of cloth from his robes and passed it to Alban. Interested and curious, Alban unwrapped the fabric to see what it was; inside glinting in the sun was a bronze amulet shaped almost like a sickle. It was weighty and attached to a leather thong.

"Antony what is this? What's going on?" he asked.

"It's a gift, I thought that was obvious," replied Antony somewhat sarcastically.

"You know what I mean old man. Have you been scrying in that cube of yours again?" Alban referred to the blue glass scrying cube Antony kept in his house. It was the only thing he used with his magic to see into the future. There were apparently many futures from what Alban had been told and only a seer could piece together the broken images to create a complete picture.

"Fine, fine. I only saw a few things of interest anyway. I know for certain that you will be going on the voyage your father was originally meant to, and that it will take a while for you to get to your destination. I just want to make sure your safe that's all. Your mother made me promise to keep you safe."

Alban recited it back "Don't let any harm come to him Antony, I'm leaving him in your capable hands. That one?"

"Yes that one. And if your so inclined to parrot back information then go and find what tinctures help sea sickness since you'll be needing it." Antony mock scolded his pupil who smirked back and made his way down the steps to the house again. The Wizards smiled faded as he watched the back of the young man's head disappeared through the doorway. He hadn't been exactly truthful to him.

The images that came from the cube had been of storms and twisting passages. It was very dark and the sense of confusion and disorientation had flooded his mind. In his heart he knew that this was going to be their last meeting and he had protected the boy for as long as he had been able to. The promise was being fulfilled to the best of his abilities, abilities that he felt Alban was ready to inherit.

The boy's mother had been truly one of a kind and had also been his apprentice long before Alban came into the picture. Her talent for masquerading as a human was enough for the normal people of the world to not notice, save those who knew what to look for like him. He'd know from the moment they'd met that she was of Fae blood. It was always the eyes.

She'd married Martin and had Alban while practicing her sorcery with him. And then one day out of the blue she'd up and left them all like the wind. But not before making him promise to take care of her son. He knew it was the wiles of the Fae to leave when they wished, it was just their nature. Antony had always feared it would crop up in Alban some day and he'd be off like his mother. But it'd never happened. Antony knew however that nothing lasted forever regardless of how long or short time was and that this was where their paths would diverge.


	3. Protean

The storm caught the crew by surprise enough for them to not have the time to get the ship under control. It came out of nowhere; one moment it was a calm day on the sea and then next it was a raging tempest.

Salt water crashed over the bow of the ship, angry and boiling black like tar. Alban clutched the portside of the railing while men scrambled to get the sails tucked in and ted down as soon as possible. The captain had tied himself to the ships wheel and was hollering orders at the top of his lungs or at least trying to over the thick waves that pelted the boat mercilessly. Inwardly Alban prayed to every deity he knew and remember before doing another round of "Our Father" in his head.

The trip hadn't started out like this at all, it had been peaceful, even uneventful, but nothing like this! He could remember a week back to setting sail from the costal port town he'd arrived in by carriage some miles from home. His father had been too weak to tell him good bye and instead they had said their parting words in the quiet of their own home the night before he was sent off. There had only been a few stops scheduled for the voyage. Three shipments of wool fabric, half a load of red wine, and so on as the list was drawn up and checked for each item. He'd actually had the nerve to grumble at how slow and boring things were going and instead opted to fill his spare time between stops by telling himself stories of pirates and gold booty like the kind his father had encountered along the warmer coasts.

He'd actually been in the middle of a story about a sorcerer when the storm hit. He'd created a character in his mind that was powerful and seductive to those who were open to willing enough for him to let his magic entrance them. An interesting thing he'd learned early on from Antony was how to create simple shapes from seemingly nothing. This had led him to creating a crystal sphere which he proceeded to roll back and forth from hand to hand as he reclined against some pillows on his bed, all the while daydreaming about his sorcerer.

Alban could see him being handsome in a sharp sort of way, angular and unworldly. Haughty and arrogant as most sorcerers tended to get, maybe even a touch evil. Yes, he liked that. All good characters had a deeper side to them, a dangerous and secret side that made up their core. He'd laughed at himself. He sure wished he were laughing now. As the storm descended on their ship he'd made his way up on deck for some fresh air which he knew had been his fatal mistake. Why couldn't the water have cooperated a little longer, he mentally screamed.

Instead, a titian wave surged up from the sea and crashed into him. Alban felt himself buckle from the force and was knocked back like it had been a blow from a punch. His nose filled with stinging salt water that burned and suffocated him. He was being dragged underwater Alban realized. Panicking he started to flail and kick at the current, anything to break the surface and get a mouthful of air in. He had to stay afloat. His vision darkened and he grew weak till finally he let the ocean do as it wished.

* * *

 ** _The Labyrinth, 600 years before the Incident..._**

The tower was the second most striking landmark of the whole area. The first was the large castle like fortress seemingly carved from the rock face of a jagged cliff overlooking a vast labyrinth of corridors, twists and turns. This place perched on the land overlooking the cliffs of a black frothing and angry ocean. If one was lost in the vastness of this maze you could close your eyes and almost hear the crash of the waves on the rocks carried on the breeze. The stones that made up this monumental structure were a sort of pink quartz which is what made the whole of it glow when the light hit just right.

Generations ago, so far back in fact that no one really remembered except those who knew they were looking, a ship crashed on this inhospitable land. The people survived and even though this was not their intended destination they decided to make the best of things and settle. But what occurred to them was that if they had come to such a place, anyone could. And so over the years they carved a great fortress on the highest peak overlooking the sea to watch for any ships that might come or go and they made it in such a way that it was camouflaged to look like the rocks.

And facing dangers from the inland as well, they constructed a massive maze to confuse any enemies that would seek their doom. This was added onto with every generation of course, and with every generation they began to relax more and more. Soon the people started to wonder if trade would be a better option. They then built two lighthouses on the sea and another in the labyrinth. If there was ever a ship out at sea then the light house on the sea would signal the lighthouse inland in an effort to draw it in. But it never happened. Still, they kept up hope that maybe someday there would be a ship.

Time moved on. The Tower, as it was named, gained two new keepers which were a young man named Orrin and his sister called Emka. Orrin was seventeen and Emka was six when they moved into the tower. There were days were little Emka would walk the stone porch and look out over the vastness of what her ancestors had created, her small hands holding the edge of the railing in childlike awe. Brother and sister worked together for five years until one harsh winter a fever carried on the wind settled into the village and its inhabitants. Orrin did not make it.

That spring, after the first real thaw, Emka became the towers keeper. Eighteen years passed for her and she matured into a beautiful woman of twenty-four. Her years hadn't been spent lonely, not at all. On the contrary people drew to her and often times she would find things outside the door leading into the tower as well as people stopping her in the village market. Mostly the old women.

They'd say things to her like "My nephew is single if you'd like me to fix you up together," or "If you drink this you'll be irresistible to anyone!" and even "When are you going to get settled down?" She knew they were only concerned for her and waved them away politely and laugh. Still, she was noticed by young men, older men, even married men would look at her though no man ever made real eye contact.

Many times she'd have her elbows on the rounded windowsill overlooking the world as she knew and pondered. Was there more than this she thought? The question repeating itself in different fashions inside her mind. She could feel change pricking at her skin, down her spine and brushing the soft hairs of her cheeks. Something was coming, and it wouldn't be long now.


	4. Trepidation

**2 years after the Labyrinth Incident...**

Sarah was two years wiser. She'd grown and matured in ways that both of her parents noticed and remarked on to each other and the neighbors; she'd also put aside her fanciful daydreams for the most part and buckled down to finish high school.

Being seventeen wasn't what she'd expected. Everyone asked her what she wanted to do after she graduated. Originally she'd wanted to follow in her mother's footsteps and become an actress, but that phase seemed to have burned out after her adventure.

"Go to college, of course." She'd answer because that's what she wanted to do. After that though…

Sarah huffed frustratedly and put her mechanical pencil down to rub her tired eyes. Why did history have to be so boring? It wasn't as if a random person off the street was going to ask her when the War of the Roses ended. If she was lucky she might pull a C- out of the class. Oh well.

She stretched her arms up and relished the pop she felt in her lower back and decided to call it quits for the evening. In the nursery across from her room she could hear Toby whine softly in his sleep before quieting down. A house was never the same with a three year old boy running rampant through it when he got the chance. He'd learned early on how to climb out of his crib and playpen without a bruise on him; Sarah suspected he always had some help when he wanted to go on an adventure.

In fact she'd always suspected that the Goblins had hung around after their trip through the Labyrinth. Toby didn't seem to remember as much as Sarah did but that could have been due more to how young he'd been she'd mused. And then there was Hoggle, Ludo and Sir Didymus.

They'd kept in regular contact through her vanity mirror which served as both a portal and means of them entering her world if need be. It had only happened a handful of times in the span of two years. "Don't want him to even suspect we're travel'n across to the Aboveground," Hoggle had explained to her once. She knew exactly who Hoggle meant as well. She had decided to not even speak his name lest it cause more problems she didn't want. But that had been three months ago and now it was almost impossible to contact any of them. Sarah figured they were laying low and since she didn't want them to get in trouble because of her she let it alone for the time. But that still didn't lessen her worry.

She yawned again and looked anxiously at her bed, uncertain of what the night would bring this time. It felt cliché for her to admit it but some of the dreams she'd been having of late were off. She dreamed about the Labyrinth every so often and it usually wasn't a big deal but lately…

Giving up on staying up late, Sarah stood up and got ready for bed.

* * *

Sarah stood in the darkness of the void and waited. There was nothing but pitch black everywhere she turned like the vacuum of a black hole. And yet she could see her body and hands as she'd lifted them up to examine. No noise or echo came from the place she was in except her own light breathing. Shouldn't she be scared? No, she thought, not at all. In fact she felt very relaxed.

Ahead of her she could see it coming already, the white outline of the woman. It was small at first like a distant star that had yet to brighten in the darkening night sky but it grew larger and whiter the closer it came to her. It stopped some feet away from where she stood. It glowed like a white-hot flame in stark contrast to the blackness surrounding it.

"Help me…" came a small whisper. Sarah looked around startled for this was the first time anyone had spoken to her in this dream.

"Where are you?" She cried suddenly, feeling fear and anxiety surround her. She had to find whoever it was that belonged to the voice. Sarah was desperate and scanning everywhere in the darkness for the voice. But there was nothing.

 _"Sarah."_

She whipped around to face the pale being that now stood less than a foot away from her. It was so close she could feel the energy radiating off of it. "Who are you!" she demanded feeling her younger self from two years past resurface inside. It looked like a woman but—it wasn't really a woman, was it?

Like Jareth, the Pale Woman created a crystal ball with her hands, only this one was much bigger than he had ever made. Sarah peered into the depths, only to gasp in horror at what she saw. The Labyrinth was completely destroyed. The Castle Beyond the Goblin City was no more than ruins and rubble like an old crumbling empire from a bygone time. The image shifted and though she struggled to look away she found she couldn't; it was like watching a car crash happen.

The crystal showed her a darkened room with crystal walls and faded silk draperies; candles that had dripped wax like stalactites and cushions that now sagged depressingly. It was the ballroom, she realized. And at the heart of it…

At the heart of the once grand room lay a skeleton swathed in a white feather cloak. Her feet felt the cool marble of the ballroom floor and she saw she'd been transported to it once again. A broken dream that she'd destroyed; she saw that one of the walls had been shattered, that same one she had crashed the chair through to escape and rescue Toby.

 _"Sarah…help me…"_ a dry whisper rose from the ground. There was a tug at her nightshirt; she cried out in horror when she saw a hand rise up and grasp at her from the folds of the tattered cloak. The skeleton of the Goblin King, now reanimated, began to claw at Sarah. It was like a bad horror film where the zombie went after the cheerleader, the thought flickered briefly in her mind.

"This isn't real! _This isn't real!_ Wake up Sarah! _You have no power over me!_ What do you want?!" She screamed at the monstrosity as it pulled her down to the ground alongside of it to then crawl on top of her. Sarah was hysterically trying to roll it off of her and make a dash for the opening in the crystal wall she'd made. _"Sarah…please… help me,"_ it spoke to her; the dry flesh of its face cracking as it moved, a mask of the once handsome Goblin King she'd dealt with. Sarah tried to push it away only for it to grasp her hands in its own. The smell was of dust and decay wafting from the rags that had once been a beautiful outfit. The air felt thin and sour as the darkness closed in on her, her breath and heartbeat growing shorter and faster until the light was extinguished. She screamed in true terror then.

 _"Sarah…Find me…Save me…"_


	5. Anotic

I'm borrowing the last name of the author of the Labyrinth book from the original Labyrinth script. I don't own it, the copyright to it, but I am letting you know that I'm borrowing it. Just saying. Ok enjoy!

* * *

"Oh Sarah, you look just awful!" Irene remarked the moment she saw her stepdaughter trudge down to the kitchen the next morning. Sarah, who had slept little after having that disturbing nightmare, had some serious bags under her eyes. " Not a good night or did you stay up late again with homework?" Irene asked. Sarah took a seat at the island but not before pouring herself a healthy sized cup of coffee.

"Both actually. I had the worst dream, it was so horrible!" she said shuddering. Irene could sympathize; she remembered what it had been like being stressed over schooling and the future. Just one of the perks with being an adult she thought, mildly sipping her coffee. "Well, if you need to talk about it or need an ear you can come to me," she said putting her cup down on the island.

That had become a sort of code between the two of them ever since Sarah had come back from the Labyrinth and opened up to Irene as a person instead of the dreaded fairy tale stepmother. It had taken time and trust, like trying to gain confidence from a deer or a bird. Sarah eventually did warm up to Irene and Irene in turn had started to listen to what Sarah wanted. It had also helped that Sarah grew more protective of Toby.

"Well at least it's the weekend, otherwise I'd be a zombie in class." Sarah yawned before taking a swig of coffee."I figured-if it's ok with you and Dad- that I could go to the record store and see if there were any new albums that might be in."

"Sure. Your Dad plans to do some stuff in the garage later, and I've got to go grocery shopping so that works out perfectly." Irene said. "What was the name of that store again, I can never remember any of the New Age junk."

"I don't think it related to New Age stuff; it's called Underground Records." Sarah said sagely. Originally it had been a convenience store at the corner of an intersection a couple of blocks from their home. She'd been a bit weirded out by the name at first as well as the timing of when it opened, but they always had the greatest music and even a couple of surprises she hadn't expected to run across. A few of the albums had names she'd never even heard of, like "Silent Noise: Hear the Wind" "Oliver's Effect, Instrumental Edition" and "Quantum Lights". Sipping her coffee silently, Sarah wondered what the day had in store for her.

* * *

By the time she left, there was a slight drizzle coming down. She'd put on her faded jeans and sneakers as well as a grey turtleneck for the chill. The sky was grey and dreary above her and as she walked she thought more and more about the dream. Who was the Pale Woman and where did she come from? Why was she in her dreams as of late? And then that part about the ballroom...

A warm tear slid down her cheek then at the memory of the pitiful image the Goblin King had been then. No matter what had happened between them both two years prior she had always wondered what had happened when his world had collapsed on him. She remembered feeling so sad after the party that night as she lay in her bed thinking about it and had even let herself cry then. When Hoggle and she had talked the next time she asked if the Labyrinth had taken any severe damage from her. He'd shaken his head and said that everything was the usual around there and nothing had changed significantly to be an actual problem but then had paused in afterthought as if remembering something.

"Hoggle is there anything wrong over there that you're not telling me?" She pressed harder.

"Well...the castle's been awful quiet of late. And the Goblins 'ave been a little fewer too, but that could be any number of reasons. I'm sure it's just because his Royal-stick-in-the-mudness is a sore looser that's all." They'd both chuckled lightheartedly at the remark and left it at that. But it never answered any of her questions. Was he really dead? Was that why she couldn't contact Hoggle, Ludo, and Sir Didymus?

"Oww, to many thoughts going on up there. Ok Sarah, knock it off." she scolded herself. A block later with a little more rain and she was inside the warmth of the record store; it was like if Retro and Hippy had a lovechild together. The brown carpet had seen better days as a red one, the lights looked like they'd all been purchased from totally different garage sales; hundreds of weird licence plates decorated the walls along with strange and quirky posters like M.C. Escher and psychedelic eyeballs. Sarah had really grown to love it. With ten dollars in her pocket and music in the background, she started her search amidst the many record aisles for something interesting. Sarah rounded the corner at the end of the main aisle on her way to the New Rock section and collided right into someones back.

"Ooff!"

"Oh my! Are you alright?"

Taking a step back Sarah saw that she was looking at the back of someone wearing a black leather duster; the stranger turned around for her to see that it was a man in his late twenties early thirties with dirty blond hair that looked like it needed a brush. The face seemed familiar enough and sparked a hiddenand dusty part of brain into gear. She'd seen this man before but where could she have...

His eyes. It was his mismatched eyes she realized.

"Uh..." she started, feeling anxiety bloom in her stomach. The Goblin King! How the balls was he here in the Aboveground and more importantly how could she get as far away from him in under two minutes?

"I'm so sorry, that was my bad. I didn't hear you come up behind me," He said. Sarah forced a smile and tried to sidestep him only he also chose to sidestep in front of her. They did this for a few moments before she held up her hands in defeat and turned back the way she'd come before. His hand landed on her shoulder; it was firm and warm. Plus she could smell the worn leather from his jacket which reminded her of when the two of them had been mere inches apart in the underground tunnels.

"I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to get you all huffed up," he said smiling at her. His voice had a mature timber to it that she could recognize anywhere.

"Oh, that's alright, I was just being a clutz." Sarah said.

"Still, a young woman should never have to feel embarrassed over something so trivial. And besides, I still need to exchange information with you."He said. Sarah quirked her eyebrow.

"Hu?"

"You know for being in a fender bender and such?" She saw the mischief in his different colored eyes dancing around and realized he was pulling one over her; the smile she wanted to hid wasn't having it and escaped with a laugh before she could catch them both. He grinned toothily at her. "Well at least you can laugh at corny jokes. I'm Jared, Jared Zackar."

"Hi," she said. Their names were similar but not the same she thought; maybe this wasn't the Goblin King.

"And you are?"

"I-" oh, what could it hurt? This clearly wasn't the sorcerer she'd encountered in the corridors of the Labyrinth, who'd stolen her baby brother, and sent Cleaners after her and Hoggle. "I'm Sarah."

"Sarah? What a beautiful name for an equally beautiful young woman,"said Jared taking her hand to brush his lips against the back of it in a light kiss. "Charmed." he waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively. Sarah laughed again feeling much more comfortable than before; what a character she thought.

"Hey Jared! We need you downstairs for mic check!" someone hollered from the back of the store.

"Mic check?" She asked interested. Jared nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, I'm a singer. We're having a concert tomorrow night," briefly he rummaged around inside his duster before procuring a flyer for her. Unfolding it Sarah read the words _**"Underground Records: Jared Zackar preforming with Company Gear band. Sunday evening from 9:00 to 11:00."**_

"Maybe I'll see you there?" Jared inquired before disappearing downstairs into the basement of the shop. Looking back down at the paper Sarah made a resolute decision there and then. "Yes. I shall go to the Ball," she said to herself with a secret smile.


End file.
